


Unspoken

by plumdebois



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Emotional Hurt, F/M, No Fluff, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumdebois/pseuds/plumdebois
Summary: Unspoken words between Daphne and Simon as the events play out. 100% canon, but with deeper insight.A deep dive into each scene where I deconstruct every look, every gesture, every word, and contextualize the motivations behind their actions.If there is a scene that makes you go “What? Why?”, the answer is here. Every chapter comes tagged with its corresponding scene.I deliver Daphne’s point of view first, then I rewind the scene using "the rewind button" to deliver Simon’s point of view.
Relationships: Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Basset, Simon Basset & Daphne Bridgerton, Simon Basset/Daphne Bridgerton
Comments: 123
Kudos: 111





	1. In my blood

**Author's Note:**

> Rating reflects Bridgerton's TV-MA rating.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Whistledown's latest issue ran Nigel Berbrooke out of town and Daphne is now relieved of the obligation to marry him. The ruse resumes. 
> 
> Companion chapter for Episode 2, 53" mark, the final dance scene.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

I am angry with you. How could you… how could you push me in such a perilous situation and then walk away as if my life, my happiness, my future meant nothing to you? Did you even care that I was to marry him in mere days? Did you even spare a few seconds in your thoughts for me? Did you even know what your resorting to violence almost caused? Do you know what lengths my poor mama had to go to get me out of the trouble _you_ have instigated?

I did not wish for you to save me. I just hoped that you would have respected my wishes, my choices, _me_.

_“You should not have lost your temper with Lord Berbrooke.”_

_“You should know something about me, Miss Bridgerton. I will not tolerate a bully.”_

Honestly, you are so arrogant! You still do not understand. My life is not a gambling chip you can expend. You cannot play away my future as if it were nothing. 

_“And you should know something about me, Your Grace. I will not have this go wrong.”_

_“You mean our ruse?”_

_“It is more than a ruse now. It is more than a negotiation. This is not just about finding the best match to impress Lady Whistledown… or the queen, or any member of the ton. This is about a life, Your Grace. My life. I must finally take charge of it. I cannot afford to do otherwise. So I shall not have this go wrong. If you are not in agreement, then you should tell me now.”_

_“I shall agree… on one condition.”_

A condition?! Why do you insist on acting on your entitlement? Why do you keep belittling my quest for happiness? Just because you, yourself, do not value such notions, does not mean you can demean my need to find a love match.

_“You do not understand, Your Grace...”_

_“That you call me Simon.”_

Oh… you were not…

_“If we are truly to seem to be courting, if this is to be a match like no other, you should call me by my name.”_

A fair condition, indeed. I cannot help but smile at the thought of you abandoning your title, your rank, your authority… for me. Choosing to be only yourself… with me. 

_“Very well… Simon.”_

_“Is there something funny about my name?”_

_“No, no, no… It is a perfectly fine name.”_

_“Oh, perfectly fine? Very well… Daphne.”_

Daphne… how my name, my own name that I have come to hear so many times over so many years from the mouths of so many people I love, my name with which I am so familiar, how it sounds… oh how it sounds… new. How it sounds… different. I cannot resist the power your voice holds in transforming my own name into an unfamiliar sensation inside of me.

I feel your breath on my face… you are holding me so close. What are you doing? Your fingers are not allowed to my bare skin… my bare skin that tingles now at this forbidden encounter. I should squirm to remind you to remove your hand, but my body will not nudge. How can such rough fingers brush the softest touch?

You are strengthening your hold on me, yet I know you do not intend to hold me for any longer. I need to break this hold. I need to move away from your warm breath.

_“I wish to find a husband… so that I may have a family, children.”_

Tell me I might have already found him.

_“Then let us find you a husband.”_

Apparently, I have not. I am looking deep into your eyes to understand why… You were just caressing me with the tenderest of strokes, and yet you will not have me.

It is quite alright, your Grace. I shall respect your decision.

<<

You are angry with me. Your body is stiff in my arms. Your smile is polite, but distant. This is not the smile I have come to miss. This is the gracious smile of Miss Bridgerton to the Duke of Hastings… I do not want it.

I want the sparkle in your eyes when I hold you in my arms. But the sparkle is gone tonight. Your eyes are judging me.

I know I bungled this up. I almost shattered your dreams. You were so close to walking down the aisle to him… to that sorry excuse of a man. And I have caused this. You told me to stay away and I did not. You warned me that I could not assure you of anything… and you were right.

I thought I had lost the permission to hold you, forever. Yet all I could do was to take a beating in the boxing ring… because I did not know what else to do to ease the pain of the knowledge that I shattered your dreams. That feeling of weakness… helplessness… I do not want it.

_“You should not have lost your temper with Lord Berbrooke.”_

I know. And I am sorry. But I cannot apologize. I cannot let you see how a fraction of a man I truly am. I cannot let you in my weakness. My failures are for me to bury deep. You only see what I show you and _you will only see_ what I show you.

_“You should know something about me, Miss Bridgerton. I will not tolerate a bully.”_

_“And you should know something about me, Your Grace. I will not have this go wrong.”_

And wrong it almost went. I thought I had to protect you. I thought I had to intervene. I thought I knew better than you did about the matters that affect _your_ life… just because of this game we are playing.

_“You mean our ruse?”_

_“It is more than a ruse now. It is more than a negotiation. This is not just about finding the best match to impress Lady Whistledown… or the queen, or any member of the ton. This is about a life, Your Grace. My life. I must finally take charge of it. I cannot afford to do otherwise. So I shall not have this go wrong. If you are not in agreement, then you should tell me now.”_

Oh, Miss Bridgerton. Your words wound me so deeply. You believe that I am not aware of the severe consequences of my actions. I am painfully aware. If it was not for the Bridgerton wit, in few days you would have been in the arms of a creepy worm… touching you, kissing you, having you… But I shall not have you see me break.

_“I shall agree… on one condition.”_

_“You do not understand, Your Grace...”_

Oh silly girl, I do understand… agonisingly so.

_“That you call me Simon.”_

Ah… that smile. Your true smile. It has returned. Your eyes are sparkling once more. Your body let go of its tension… you feel lighter now, in _my_ arms. 

_“If we are truly to seem to be courting, if this is to be a match like no other, you should call me by my name.”_

I wish to linger on these moments until I no longer can delay the unavoidable. 

_“Very well… Simon.”_

How my name sounds so soft on your lips, my name that no living soul dares to pronounce, yet you find it so easy to articulate it with a big smile. Oh, how your giggle is captivating me, Miss Bridgerton.

_“Is there something funny about my name?”_

_“No, no, no… It is a perfectly fine name.”_

_“Oh, perfectly fine? Very well… Daphne.”_

I want to pull you closer and closer. Close to my chest, close to my heart. Close to my lips.

Your smile has faded. Your eyes are avoiding me now. I feel your breath on me. I cannot help my fingers crawling upwards to your bare back. I have crossed the boundaries of your gown, finally. My hands are rough against your soft skin, as my existence is wretched against your precious heart. This touch is not allowed, and yet I feel like I am the only person allowed to ever touch you like this…

_“I wish to find a husband… so that I may have a family, children.”_

Thank you for reminding me, Miss Bridgerton, that this moment cannot last forever, and I am, in fact, not worthy of a touch such as this one. 

_“Then let us find you a husband.”_

I see the resignation in your eyes, Miss Bridgerton. You do not understand why I hold you so close, and yet why I am willing to let you go to another. It is because I am not worthy of you, Miss Bridgerton.

I cannot live up to expectations set out for me. I vowed to lead a life of solitude, a barren life devoid of any deep attachment, any true responsibility. I cannot afford to break this vow, as this fire of hatred is the only driving force of my whole existence. Without it, I shall break. Without it, I shall crumble under the weight imposed upon my boyhood.

So my apologies, Miss Bridgerton. I must let you go. But until that dreadful moment arrives, I shall enjoy your gaze that you seem incapable of moving away from me, even as you continue to dance with others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless thanks to my beta, my writing inspiration, and the queen of Bridgerton gifsets, melanoradrood.


	2. The spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne just had the weirdest dream, where Simon was making her... feel things. She is starting to notice that these unfamiliar sensations are not only confined to her dreams.  
> Companion baby-chapter for Episode 3, 2" mark, rendez-vous at the Gunter's Tea Shop.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

What are you doing? Who licks a clean spoon like that? And why are my eyes are drawn to your mouth? What is this tingling sensation in my stomach? It’s the same sensation from my dream. You’re haunting my dreams now… ever since your rough fingers brushed my bare back oh so smoothly…

Oh well... Back to our arrangement.

_“Our plan has worked thus far, but we must continue our ruse until I have found my match.”_

I have rejected three proposals this week. It is not that I am waiting for yours. _Obviously._ I just want… someone to make me feel like you make me feel. At ease… but delightfully uneasy.

_“In the grand battle of the season, I am your trusted general, marshalling the troops.”_

_“_ _Wellington could only hope for a soldier so brave.”_

 _“_ _And handsome. You must not forget that.”_

I seem to not forget that, your Grace. Your face infiltrates my dreams. I long for your touch on my skin. None of them make me feel like you make me feel. And yet, I have a goal to accomplish.

<<

I know what I am doing. I am trying to seduce you. I should not… but I cannot help it. I am so enchanted by your big blue eyes that I want them on me… at all times. Your lips part in wonder as my tongue swirl on the spoon. Your eyes widened, as if they were not already captivatingly wide.

_“Our plan has worked thus far… "_

Oh, you are composing yourself. Nice change of course, Miss Bridgerton, bringing up our “ruse”. You believe yourself immune to my charm. Maybe this is precisely the reason why I cannot help myself from trying to seduce you. I will not tolerate your immunity.

_“… but we must continue our ruse until I have found my match.”_

It seems like a difficult task if you keep rejecting proposals at this rate. Yes, I read Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers now. We both know our plan is working, and yet you seem reluctant to reap the benefits of this success.

_“In the grand battle of the season, I am your trusted general, marshalling the troops.”_

Ah yeah… the troops. I am marshalling them into your drawing room, but you are not willing to entertain any callers. Why is that, Miss Bridgerton? Are you simply enjoying our arrangement so much that you simply cannot bring yourself to end it?

_“Wellington could only hope for a soldier so brave.”_

I am brave indeed, for risking the emergence of a charming suitor among the endless number of callers you seem to attract. I want those eyes on me, always.

_“And handsome. You must not forget that.”_

Once more. I could not help it. I am trying to seduce you. 


	3. Bad Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad guy is playing on strings as a ball continues in a room full of bird cages and peacocks.
> 
> Companion chapter for Episode 3, 5” mark, the Bird Ball scene.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

You have arrived. I see mama’s and Lady Danbury’s eyes sparkle with joy as their turn their gaze away from me. We do not dance tonight; you are here to send me away to others' arms.

_“Is my general ready for battle?”_

_“I was born ready.”_

_“Were that true, I suspect you would need less protection from our beloved packs of ambitious mamas.”_

I love to tease you and be greeted by a smile rather than outrage. You are no longer the Duke of Hastings to me. You are Simon. And with you, I am Daphne. Unedited, unfiltered, unadulterated.

_“You call me the general, yet you are the first to draw blood.”_

And you enjoy humouring me. You see me for who I am, witty and determined, not innocent and gentle. How I want to stay by your side all night, be free to be me… all night…

_“Miss Bridgerton.”_

_“Lord Weaver.”_

_“I was wondering if you might do me the honour of a dance tonight.”_

… but I need to find myself a husband.

_“Must I share your attention with every moon-eyed dandy, Miss Bridgerton?”_

_“Only the charming ones, Your Grace.”_

_“The perfect jealous suitor. Well done! Someone is angling for a promotion in rank.”_

I know you are jesting. I know why you are in this game. I see you inspecting your surroundings to make sure to keep the ambitious mamas at bay. Still, I am indulged to discern the subtle hint of annoyance in your voice, masked by your utterly comical reaction. I love how you keep your gaze on me while I take the dance floor on the arms of another. I know you _must_ keep your gaze on me to maintain the charade, to keep off mamas and daughters alike. Still, I love to catch a glimpse of you looking at me while I communicate to you, through my desperate eyes, the displeasure I am experiencing in the arms of my current dance partner. You are always there to catch my gaze, returning a stare that dives deep into my soul.

And another. And another. I am once again _Miss Bridgerton_ , the season’s incomparable, trying to maintain an interesting conversation with these gentlemen who were brought up to secure a suitable match for themselves, just as I was. And such abundance of gentlemen, because of you. But you have damaged me forever. No conversation brings even the hint of a genuine smile to my face when the conversation is not with you.

_“And how did you find our eligible bachelors?”_

_“I must confess, I have felt more chemistry when being fitted at the modiste.”_

I am finally free to be Daphne once again, by your side. The relief I feel in your presence has spoiled me. How am I to find a proper husband when all I want is to maintain this feeling of ultimate sincerity?

Ah, here is the prince… Everyone is swooning over him. What is this game we are all playing? Rank, title, money, connection, reputation… all considered the essential ingredients of a good match. And the prince has them all. Yet it cannot be the end of it, can it? If this was the case, I would be drawn to him. But I do not want to move, my feet refuse to take a step forward. What makes a good match, if not the endless need to be with one another? What else am I searching for in a husband?

I am searching for that feeling that wakes me up in the middle of the night. Intriguing and delightful.

_“They do not even know him.”_

_“They do not need to.”_

_“Besides the fact he is a prince.”_

_“Surely you cannot be surprised. You know how this works. Was it not you who wrote the book on the very subject?”_

Yes, I did indeed. I know how to play pretend. I know all the courting tricks in the proverbial playbook. I perfected the game. But since meeting you, the playbook is… meaningless. Useless, even. I seem to have found myself in a wholly new type of game, one I do not know how to play.

_“Watch as Miss Cowper lowers her eyes… Oh, so demure. Now she will look up at him, ever so quickly, and then allow her fan to slowly sweep across her bosom before casting her eyes back upon the ground, for one is much too timid to ever meet His Royal Highness's piercing gaze, of course. Oh, now he will kiss her hand…”_

This game, I know. This game, I can play perfectly.

_“… forever charmed by her submission.”_

_“Precisely. Should I ever need assistance drafting an addendum to my book, I shall know who to ask.”_

_“I do believe he just told Miss Cowper that her gown is exquisite. “_

_“Do you think so?”_

_“He is here to tell every lady the very same thing.”_

Apparently, you can play the courting game as well. What was I thinking, of course you can! You just do not want to play. You do not even need to play. You only need five minutes alone with a lady in a drawing room to seduce her. I would even venture that you only need mere seconds in a tea shop…

You are moving away from me, leaving me alone in the presence of the prince. You are holding your end of the bargain, your Grace. How I wish you did not…

And now that I am next to him, I cannot wait for him to proceed to the next young lady… and here it is, “your gown is exquisite”, just like you told me he would! And I am laughing? And I snorted? Oh my goodness, you made me snort in front of the prince!

“ _That was entirely your fault.”_

_“How does one manage to make such an unbecoming sound while laughing?”_

You seem to have enjoyed it, your Grace. And I snorted, again???

_“Now you are making it look easy.”_

Everything feels easy when I am with you. You are not judging me; you are amused by my silliness. But I must leave you once more, to dance with another gentleman. A gentleman, I am sure, will make me long for your company even more as I try to find the right words worthy of _Miss Bridgerton_.

<<

You are so close to the entrance. Dare I think that it is because of the anticipation of seeing me? Or is it your mama and Lady Danbury strategically placing you so that you are the centre of attention? It is no matter because now you know I have arrived, and you turn toward me. Oh I so long for the sparkle in your eyes… Am I the cause of that sparkle, or do you relish our ruse so much that you cannot contain your joy?

_“Is my general ready for battle?”_

_“I was born ready.”_

_“Were that true, I suspect you would need less protection from our beloved packs of ambitious mamas.”_

Ah you witty, witty girl…

_“You call me the general, yet you are the first to draw blood.”_

I will give you the upper hand this time, for I only want that sparkle in your eyes to shine even brighter, that smile of yours to turn into laughter, this game to last forever… 

_“Miss Bridgerton.”_

_“Lord Weaver.”_

_“I was wondering if you might do me the honour of a dance tonight.”_

… but you need to find yourself a husband.

_“Must I share your attention with every moon-eyed dandy, Miss Bridgerton?”_

My voice is loud. I will make you, and everyone else in this room, believe that it is to scare off mamas and daughters eyeing me from the corner of the room and pretend to be a jealous suitor … for if I can pretend to be pretending, then you will not hear the disappointment in my voice, the disappointment that you cause each time you move your eyes away from me.

_“Only the charming ones, Your Grace.”_

_“The perfect jealous suitor. Well done! Someone is angling for a promotion in rank.”_

A promotion I must sadly decline.

Still, I cannot stop watching you. You in their arms, gentleman after gentleman, you smiling at them, them holding you, you talking to them… Why are you talking to them? Your smile is polite, yet your eyes are calling for my help. They are not worthy of you. None of them is worthy of you. _I_ am not worthy of you.

Deep down, you are aware. You did not enjoy their company. You are with me now, safe from the endless game of pretend you feel you must maintain. You are allowed to shed your polite smile now that you are with me. How I love that your true smile is for my eyes only.

Ah, here is the prince… and you did not even budge. You truly do not care? You do not _seem_ to care. You even mock the young ladies swooning over the prince… Miss Bridgerton, is it possible that you are losing sight of the task at hand? Are you enjoying my company so much that you have forgotten the instructions of your own courting playbook?

_“He is here to tell every lady the very same thing.”_

I will stand aside as you make the prince’s acquaintance. I will not spoil this for you, even if you seem to get distracted by my presence, a distraction I am purposefully creating.

They are looking at _you_ , but they do not see you. _I_ see you. They have not the faintest idea of what you are worth. _I do_ . The queen believes she granted you the biggest honour by calling you the incomparable of the season… but _you_ are granting them the honour to be in your presence. No word is enough to describe how precious you are.

You snorted? Oh Miss Bridgerton, you truly are precious.


	4. The painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne had a midnight chat with her brother about Simon. Now she knows how absolutely lonely he has been all his life.
> 
> Companion chapter for Episode 3, 21” mark, the Somerset House scene.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

I have been searching for you all afternoon amid this overwhelming crowd. Finally, here you are, passing through the hallways unnoticed, avoiding the crowd, avoiding me, and I cannot take my eyes off you as the prince’s voice fades into the background.

I understand why you wish to avoid company… you do not know any other way. You have been alone all your life; I know that now. You were not blessed with the comforting touch of a mother nor the warm hug of a father when you were a sweet little child. You do not have siblings; you did not have the opportunity to appreciate the joy of their mischiefs. You do not have a family; you do not know the strength of such a bond. I understand your detachment now. You do not know any better. But I am not leaving you alone. I cannot leave you alone. I am drawn to your existence.

Let me take a moment to absorb the sight of you. You are lost within the painting. Your brows furrowed, as if you are trying to discern its smallest details. You are so confused and yet so fascinated by it. I do not want to disturb your peace, but I desperately need you to notice me.

_“What are you doing, hiding away in here?”_

_“Enjoying some culture.”_

I cannot dare to set my eyes upon the art you are admiring. It feels so… _intimate_ , between you and the painting. I do not want to spoil this moment for you.

_“You are receiving glowing reviews from Whistledown. Did you see?”_

Every piece of fabric on my body feels extremely suffocating right now, for I want to feel your existence radiate through my skin. I want to be… free. Unfortunately, all I can do right now is to remove my gloves in a small act of rebellion to these intangible boundaries between us.

_“I did. I ought to take to the stage.”_

_“Is it awful that I'm enjoying it?”_

_“My wild jealousy?”_

_“Fooling Lady Whistledown. She knows everything about everyone, even the queen, and yet we have her utterly convinced that we are mad for each other.”_

_She will write what she will see_ , you said once. Is this what she is seeing? Is this what _madness_ supposed to feel like? I do not feel mad. I feel… _free_.

_“We are awfully clever.”_

_“Indeed, we are.”_

I _am_ free. Free to be _me_. With you, I am Daphne. I can lay my most mischievous thoughts at your feet and you would not budge. Rather, you would encourage me… to be more… wicked.

_“Excessive pride suits you, Miss Bridgerton.”_

It is the freedom you infuse in me, Your Grace.

_“Pride is a sin, Your Grace.”_

_“One of the lesser sins. But do not worry. We must all start somewhere.”_

Oh, Your Grace, how you _do_ encourage me… Your rakishness does not intimidate me. I know you, now, Simon. I see through your arrogance. I see your shield. You cannot scandalize me.

_“You are not half as shocking as you think you are… Oh… This one is yours too.”_

So, _this_ is what you were admiring in utmost captivation? One of yours, yet so different. Different from all of the grand and sumptuous paintings to which your name was attached. This one is… _intimate_.

_“You sound surprised.”_

_“I suppose I am. It is not at all like the others you donated, is it?_

_“It is not. The others are… Well, they were to my father's tastes. If Lady Danbury is to be believed, this one was a favourite of my mother's. I have never understood why.”_

Maybe you _do_ surprise me after all. My brother told me that you have never spoken of your parents to him in all the years he has come to know you. And yet, here you are, talking about your mother, with a desperate need to get a glimpse into her mind. That is why you were so lost into this painting. You want to know her. You want to understand her. You want a piece of her.

I will try to help you understand, Simon. Maybe if I can help you understand, I might ease the burden of loneliness you have been carrying all these years.

_“It is very beautiful. It reminds me of waking up in the country. First thing in the morning, when I am all alone, and I have not yet spoken to a soul… I look outside the window, and it is… serene. As if I could be the only person left in the world, and yet… somehow I am not lonely. I am comforted, at peace. The others are certainly very grand and impressive, but this one… This one is intimate.”_

_Intimate_. This has been the only sentiment I have been bearing since the moment I walked into this hall. Here, there is only you, me, and your solitude. But I will not let your solitude come between us, Simon.

I drew my last breath at this very moment, as I barely felt you against me. Feel my hand against your hand, Simon. Feel my fingers caressing yours. I will hold your hand, and I will not let go of you. You are _not_ alone. I will make you understand that you do not have to be alone. Feel the comfort you bring to me. Feel the peace you infuse in me.

I will stay in this moment, forever. I will hold onto you, forever, if you will have me…

But I cannot, can I? The murmur of the ton will not let me linger on these stolen moments.

I am looking deep into your eyes to get even a glimpse of hope… but I cannot decipher what I perceive. Is it annoyance? Is it discomfort? Is it… regret?

It is no matter now. We must resume our ruse and pretend that we are mad for each other, while I keep pretending to you that I am not.

_“A feigned swoon. Chapter six, I believe? We ought to up our game.”_

My dearest friend, we really ought not. 

//

_“What are you doing, hiding away in here?”_

You have found me. How I wished for you to find me.

My mother is all alone in this hall, just as she was all of her life, while my father is surrounded by a horde of spectators. This ton, they only admire grandeur and magnificence… and they leave her to her solitude, just as they did when she was alive. I need to be with her, I need to tell her how she is missed.

_“Enjoying some culture.”_

I cannot look away. What was it that she was seeing here?

_“You are receiving glowing reviews from Whistledown. Did you see?”_

_“I did. I ought to take to the stage.”_

But now that my eyes met yours, I cannot look away _from you_.

_“Is it awful that I'm enjoying it?”_

How can anything that bring you joy be awful, Daphne? 

_“My wild jealousy?”_

_“Fooling Lady Whistledown. She knows everything about everyone, even the queen, and yet we have her utterly convinced that we are mad for each other.”_

_“We are awfully clever.”_

And I am a complete fool to desire that you would be mad for me. 

_“Indeed, we are.”_

That proud smile you are flaunting… you are once again enchanting. And I, once again, cannot help but try and tempt you.

_“Excessive pride suits you, Miss Bridgerton.”_

_“Pride is a sin, Your Grace.”_

You have such a flair for the dramatic, Daphne. Every time you approach me playfully, you provoke every naughty bone within me.

_“One of the lesser sins. But do not worry. We must all start somewhere.”_

_“You are not half as shocking as you think you are… Oh… This one is yours too.”_

So you have been reading the inscriptions to track me through the paintings. But why has your tone shifted? Your cheekiness is gone, you are solemn now.

_“You sound surprised.”_

_“I suppose I am. It is not at all like the others you donated, is it?”_

As if, at this very moment, you split open my chest with your bare hands and touched my beating heart with your delicate fingers. Your words cut through me so sharply. But I do not feel pain. I feel… relief.

Within an instant, you were able to perceive the subtle meanings scattered into the painting, meanings that I have been unable to decipher all my life. I do not need to struggle so much to understand her anymore, now that I have you by my side.

I cannot fight the urge to let you in… just a bit.

_“It is not. The others are… Well, they were to my father's tastes. If Lady Danbury is to be believed, this one was a favourite of my mother's. I have never understood why.”_

I know _you_ do. Please, Daphne. Let me understand her. Let me catch a glimpse of her. 

_“It is very beautiful. It reminds me of waking up in the country. First thing in the morning, when I am all alone, and I have not yet spoken to a soul… I look outside the window, and it is… serene. As if I could be the only person left in the world, and yet… somehow I am not lonely. I am comforted, at peace.”_

Oh, mother… how lonely you must have been. How utterly alone, ignored, unloved. Abused. And you found comfort in this painting. In your great solitude, you turned to this scenery to feel as if you were not lonely. And I, your son, have failed to understand just how much you were desperate to escape to this picture of a countryside for a fragment of comfort, away from your pain, away from your persecutor. Oh, how he mistreated you, mother. How he mistreated me…

_“The others are certainly very grand and impressive, but this one… This one is intimate.”_

Daphne, how effortlessly you see through my father’s delusion of grandeur… If only you knew… How he broke me…

I need your comfort now. I need your touch… And you already know that, how well you read into my soul. I find comfort in the back of your hand brushing my knuckles, I feel peace in your fingers softly caressing mine. I am comforted, at peace.

And just like that, I am reminded that your hand is not mine to hold. I look deep in your eyes, but I do not understand what you are telling me. Is it shame? Is it fear? Is it… regret?

It is no matter now, as I have been brutally awakened from the delusion that the sunshine that is your smile can finally calm the tempest within me, that these billows beating down my soul can finally turn into ripples caressing my rough edges. I am not worthy of this hope.

_“A feigned swoon. Chapter six, I believe? We ought to up our game.”_

Miss Bridgerton, are you enjoying the fact that I am mocking your own playbook? I am relieved that the mysterious sentiment in your eyes was replaced by your genuine smile once again. You are once again at ease in my company.

Until today, I did not know what pushed me to seek a woman’s touch every waking moment. I finally know. I was seeking _comfort_ in human warmth… but I was never truly comforted, was I? I was satisfied, certainly, but not _comforted_. That was the word you have used to awaken me, to make me understand what I was lacking all this time.

I will not be heading to the opera tonight, nor shall I ever need to _take the air_ again. Tonight, or any other night. I have finally found comfort… in you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter did justice to the beauty of the most romantic scene in television history. 
> 
> No beta this time, let me know if anything reads off. 
> 
> Thank you for your beautiful comments on the previous chapters. You inspired me to go until the finale. Many many chapters to come.


	5. After the bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne seems to be overwhelmed by puzzling sensations and she requires answers. The education of Miss Bridgerton ensues. 
> 
> Companion chapter for the Episode 3, 30” mark, the promenade scene in the lovely gardens.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

I need to ask you something. As much as I enjoy you sharing your past mischiefs with my brother, I cannot wait for you to finish this story so I can tell you what has been on my mind for some time now. I need to understand what is happening to me, in me. I am frustrated, and confused, and irritable, and I am annoying each and every one of my siblings with my pianoforte.

As if I have this tune inside of me that begs to be released, and yet it is stuck within, and I cannot seem to set it free...

_“My mother told me something curious the other day. That one should marry one's dearest friend.”_

_You_ are my dearest friend. _You_ are the only one with whom I can be _Daphne_. I shed all pretence in your company. This society’s tight grip on me loosens whenever I am by your side. As if we build a blanket fort together and we are free to be utterly silly under it.

_“Are you suggesting I marry your brother?”_

_“No. But I do wonder, is that truly what marriage is all about, then? Friendship?”_

Still… I cannot help but think that there is _more_ . There is something… _physical_. When I am around you, my whole body responds to your presence. I feel this delightful aching both deep within me and all over my skin; yet I cannot reach it, I cannot touch it, I cannot grasp it. It is physical, but also… not.

_“Well, I imagine it a good start. Though most marriages are more like battlefields.”_

I know, I know… You are not an admirer of the institution.

_“Even if it is a battlefield, there must be other things that hold the troop together.”_

But it cannot be all bad, can it? I know what mama and papa had was unique, but they cannot be the only ones…

_“My word! I might have thought you were trying to organize a militia. Ah! Now, there is a fine group of recruits.”_

Recruits… You want me to find my match amongst others. They are looking at us, but I would prefer they did not, so that our ruse could continue forever.

Ah, you _do_ know how to play the courting game, Your Grace. Even if I know that this utterly romantic gesture is merely a charade for the curious eyes of the _fine group of recruits_ , I cannot help my heart skipping a beat at the sight of this rose. I lose my senses in its sweet scent, knowing full well that it would not smell as delicious had it been offered by any other gentleman. Dance after dance, proposal after proposal, I become increasingly aware that these _recruits…_ cannot give me what I am seeking.

_“What I mean is… there are other things… physical… or perhaps intangible… that bring a couple together.”_

I see it in your eyes. You know what I mean. You are looking at me so tenderly that I _know_ you want to tell me.

_“Well, yes, of course there's more to a marriage, physical and intangible. Both.”_

I know that it is both! I feel it on me, in me… yet I cannot understand it. Help me understand!

_“Both? But how can something be both physical and intangible when they are quite the opposite?”_

You are mocking me! I will not have you ridicule my ignorance, Your Grace, regardless of how much you are enjoying yourself!

_“You are beastly! Never mind.”_

_“No. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at the absurdity of how little mothers tell their daughters.”_

_“They tell us nothing.”_

… other than we are not meant to know such things.

_“Well, I certainly cannot tell you.”_

I know you want to…

_“Why not?”_

_“Because it is not my place.”_

If anyone should be _at that place_ , Simon, it should be you.

_“In any real courtship, yes, it would be scandalous for her suitor to discuss such things with a lady. But you are not a real suitor, are you? And besides, no one else will tell me anything. So, how am I to find a proper husband if I do not even know what I am to be searching for?”_

If _you_ are not what I am searching for, then who is? Am I supposed to feel something entirely different?

_“You will know when you know.”_

Now you are just annoying me… 

_“What does that even mean?”_

_“I cannot tell you.”_

As if you ever cared about what you _can_ and _cannot_ do…

_“I thought we were friends.”_

_“Daphne…”_

_“Simon. Tell me. Tell me!”_

_“All right! All right!”_

I knew I could break you!

_“What happens between a husband and a wife… Well, it is a natural continuation of what happens at night.”_

Well, that does not help…

_“At night? What happens at night?”_

_“When you are alone.”_

… it does not help one bit.

_“When I am sleeping?”_

Are you talking about my dreams?

_“Not when you are sleeping... When you touch yourself.”_

I beg your pardon?

_“You do touch yourself?”_

I most certainly do not!

_“When you are alone, you can touch yourself… anywhere on your body, anywhere that gives you pleasure, but especially… between your legs. And when you find a feeling you particularly enjoy… you can carry on with that… until the feeling grows, and eventually you reach… a pinnacle, a release. And that should help you… Come.”_

I… I… I am just… burning…

My ears are burning, and my chest is burning, and my stomach is burning, and my thighs are burning.

What have you done to me?

_ << _

You seem utterly cheerful today, Miss Bridgerton. How I love to be the only witness of your playfulness.

_“My mother told me something curious the other day. That one should marry one's dearest friend.”_

_“Are you suggesting I marry your brother?”_

A prospect as likely as any other when my future is concerned…

_“No. But I do wonder, is that truly what marriage is all about, then? Friendship?”_

What a silly notion, Daphne. Friendship? Marriage is nothing but a transaction. Rank in exchange of a dowry, estate in exchange for a pretty face.

I know you believe in this utterly destructive institution, ever the idealist that you are. I would not like to be the one to disillusion you.

_“Well, I imagine it a good start. Though most marriages are more like battlefields.”_

Still, you need to lower your expectations.

_“Even if it is a battlefield, there must be other things that hold the troop together.”_

I find your naivete a little heart-breaking, Daphne. Holding on to hope when there is none to be found.

_“My word! I might have thought you were trying to organize a militia. Ah! Now, there is a fine group of recruits.”_

Do you think any one of them could give you the happiness you deserve? I desperately need to show you what you are worth, yet all I am allowed is to hand you a flower in jest. If only you knew all the meanings one little white rose encompasses…

_“What I mean is there are other things… physical… or perhaps intangible… that bring a couple together.”_

Oh… you are treading dangerous waters, Miss Bridgerton. I know what you mean, but do _you_?

_“Well, yes, of course there's more to a marriage, physical and intangible. Both.”_

_“Both? But how can something be both physical and intangible when they are quite the opposite?”_

They are not _quite the opposite_ , Daphne. They are _complementary_.

_“You are beastly! Never mind.”_

My sweet Daphne, how unworldly you are despite all your wit…

_“No. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at the absurdity of how little mothers tell their daughters.”_

_“They tell us nothing.”_

_“Well, I certainly cannot tell you.”_

I would like to…

_“Why not?”_

_“Because it is not my place.”_

Tell me it is.

_“In any real courtship, yes, it would be scandalous for her suitor to discuss such things with a lady. But you are not a real suitor, are you?”_

Ah, with the same breath that you give me permission to access your most intimate thoughts, you remind me that I am a target practice, at best.

_“And besides, no one else will tell me anything. So, how am I to find a proper husband if I do not even know what I am to be searching for?”_

The knowledge I hold would not help you find _a_ _proper husband_ , Miss Bridgerton.

_“You will know when you know.”_

What does this even mean? Do I even know what it is that you are searching for? A love match! What does _that_ mean? Does this mean someone who completes you, who frees you, who consumes you? Someone who soothes your tempestuous soul all the while sending ravaging waves to the remnants of the shipwreck of your existence?

_“What does that even mean?”_

_“I cannot tell you.”_

You are relentless.

_“I thought we were friends.”_

How can I resist such a compliment, my dearest friend?

_“Daphne…”_

_“Simon. Tell me. Tell me!”_

Your eyes are daring me. So inquisitive, so playful, yet so innocent. How could I ever decline the opportunity to unabashedly scandalise you, Miss Bridgerton? 

_“All right! All right! What happens between a husband and a wife… Well, it is a natural continuation of what happens at night.”_

Now you are in _my_ playing field. No such nonsense as love matches and proper husbands...

_“At night? What happens at night?”_

Oh Daphne, do not make me articulate it…

_“When you are alone.”_

_“When I am sleeping?”_

You most certainly must be awake.

_“Not when you are sleeping.”_

Are you just teasing me, pushing me to the edge, or do you not really have the faintest idea?

_“When you touch yourself.”_

Oh. You do not have the faintest idea.

_“You do touch yourself?”_

Heavens, your eyes… your eyes. Scandalized at last. You want to look away, but you cannot. You are so tempted.

Let me scandalize you even more, Miss Bridgerton. 

_“When you are alone, you can touch yourself…”_

Am I _half as shocking as I think I am_ , now, Miss Bridgerton?

_“Anywhere on your body, anywhere that gives you pleasure, but especially… between your legs.”_

Anywhere on your body… your neck, your breasts, your waist, your legs, between your legs… _I_ would make sure every inch of your body would give you pleasure…

Oh...

I miscalculated. I suddenly realize that this fire I was trying to instigate in you is burning _me_ instead. I thought I was making you play _my_ game, this raking game that I have perfected over so many years… I am inexplicably unable to play it wisely now. Yet I cannot stop. I need you to burn along with me until we are all but ashes. 

_“And when you find a feeling you particularly enjoy… you can carry on with that… until the feeling grows, and eventually you reach… a pinnacle, a release.”_

_I_ would find your sweet spot and _I_ would carry on with that… until you eventually come undone.

Your eyes have lost the mischievous look from mere moments ago. You resemble a baby deer; innocent, and frightened. Yet a woman is peeking through. Is this desire that I see in your eyes now? Is your curiosity satisfied, Miss Bridgerton? You finally know what you _should be_ looking for in a _proper husband_ . Unfortunately, this is not what you would receive from a _proper husband_.

_“And that should help you… come.”_

I have effectively ruined you, Miss Bridgerton. I do not regret it one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daphne helped Simon understand the painting, Simon helped Daphne understand her body. A perfect match.
> 
> Rating bumped to match the show’s naughtiness.
> 
> I try to add unspoken back-and-forths in every chapter but this is my favourite so far: What have you done to me? I have effectively ruined you. I love you so very much, idiots.


	6. Gunter’s Tea Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne finished (her song).
> 
> Companion chapter for Episode 3, 38” mark, the utterly heartbreaking last rendez-vous in front of Gunter’s Tea Shop.
> 
>   
>    
> 

Oh Simon, I have so much to tell you! At last, I managed to unleash the tune stuck in me! I am finally free. Free of my frustration, free of my confusion, free of my hesitation.

You have liberated me. And I came to realize what it is that I want. I want to know _more_.

_“So, I was thinking about us doing something different. The ice flavours here are divine, yes, but, well, perhaps the two of us...”_

Why are you not looking at me?

_“I shall not be joining you today, Miss Bridgerton. Nor tomorrow, nor any longer, for that matter.”_

Why are you avoiding my gaze? Why are you calling me _Miss Bridgerton_? Why are you suddenly… so far away? 

_“What can you mean?”_

_“Is it not obvious?”_

Your voice is gruff, and your body is stiff. You frighten me.

_“Apparently not, if I require your further elaboration.”_

Tell me you were called upon for business and you shall return. You _are_ the Duke of Hastings, after all. Your time is too valuable to be spending at balls and promenades… I shall understand if you have more important commitments.

_“You now have a bevy of suitors at your disposal, and I've been afforded relief from mamas and daughters alike in order to conduct my affairs in peace whilst remaining in London.”_

Bevy of suitors?! I do not want suitors! I want… you.

_“Thus our arrangement has succeeded, Miss Bridgerton.”_

Our arrangement?! You have marched so beyond the margins of our arrangement to be calling me _Miss Bridgerton_!

_“Stop calling me that.”_

Call me by my name, Simon. Say “Daphne” once again. I beg of you.

_“These very circumstances prove…”_

What circumstances, Simon?

_“What are you doing?”_

_“…prove that our ruse should hereby need to end.”_

Spare me this monotonous discourse… I know you. You do not speak in rehearsed language when you are by my side. Why are you shutting me out? Why are you treating me as if I have offended you?

_“Have I done something wrong?”_

_“No.”_

Your voice has mellowed. I hear _Simon_ in your denial.

_“Then tell me why.”_

_“You have the attentions of a prince. He is perfect for you.”_

You finally deigned to look me in the eyes, and all I can read on your face is… indignity?

Oh…

_“This is about our conversation yesterday.”_

_“I apologize for that.”_

I invited you to trespass the boundaries of decency and now you regret it.

_“There is no need to apologize.”_

_“Your brother was correct. I am and always will be a rake. Before I corrupt you any further...”_

I am _corrupted_ , you say? It is not even _regret_ ; you effectively despise me now. I will not allow you to treat me as a naïve girl that you have brazenly disgraced against her better judgment.

_“Corrupt me? I assure you, I am quite capable of deciding the bounds of my own propriety.”_

These degrading looks you are giving me… Why do you despise me so?

_“I thought you and I were friends.”_

_“We were never friends. I do not believe there could be a more ridiculous notion than that of us ever being friends.”_

_Ridiculous_? How you humiliate me with your gaze as much as your words…

My dearest friend with the kindest of smiles… buried within this cruel, cruel man with the cruelest of expressions. 

_“A young lady, barely out of her leading strings, you…”_

You _do_ see me as a naïve girl you disgraced. You ridicule me, you ridicule our arrangement, you ridicule my fondness for you, you ridicule the liberties I took with you. Each word you utter wounds deeper than the previous.

_“You were a convenience… a diversion, a pretty one at that, but nothing more.”_

How vicious you have become suddenly. Why are you hurting me? Do you not see how my heart is breaking?

_“Now that I've concluded my business in town, I shall be moving on. I suggest you do the same.”_

Oh, you have no _use_ of me, anymore.

_“You will be very happy with your prince, Miss Bridgerton.”_

Your final gaze is tender, yet your final words are the cruellest. 

You esteem me so little now. A fool you discarded once you had your fun. A _corrupted_ woman that you can forward to another.

How I was led astray by you into the strangest of games. What a fool I was, indeed.

<<

A knock of a cane gently reminded me that I have no intention of ever marrying you, Miss Bridgerton.

I have told Lady Danbury that the time I am spending with you is _merely_ _time well spent_ … _Merely_? Such a frivolous word to conceal the authority you hold over me. No word possesses the intensity to describe how enraptured I feel any moment I spend in your company. I tried to break this hold, I tried to overpower you with my nonchalance, but it was you who defeated me each time. And I got lost. I cannot be lost in you, Daphne.

I have a vow to uphold. It is the bane of my existence _and_ my driving force. It thrusts me so high while devouring me to the bone. It is my only truth. I have not known any other force that pushed me so strongly to build greatness upon my weakness. This hatred I cultivated oh so carefully, day by day, injury upon injury, rejection after rejection… I cannot let it go.

Each time you smile at me, it is as if your eyes infiltrate through my cracks. But I cannot let you in. You are not allowed to see the abyss inside of me. For if you stare at it long enough, it will consume you too. I cannot let it happen to you, Daphne. You were created out of the sweetest of dreams, purest of intentions, and tenderest of hearts. How can I ever allow myself to taint you with my darkness?

The more time you spend in my presence, the more you are absorbed into this darkness… because I’m purposefully _wrapping you up in my charms_ , as Lady Danbury so tactfully expressed. I need to remove myself from your path, Daphne, before I lead you astray. 

Now please, let me recite my speech that I rehearsed so many times in my head. I am finally ready. I believe you will find it quite plausible. After all, this was merely an arrangement, was it not? And once I am done, we shall go our separate ways.

_“So, I was thinking about us doing something different. The ice flavours here are divine, yes, but, well, perhaps the two of us...”_

Why must you be always delightful, always captivating, always enchanting? I cannot, Daphne. I need to let you go. 

_“I shall not be joining you today, Miss Bridgerton. Nor tomorrow, nor any longer, for that matter.”_

_“What can you mean?”_

_“Is it not obvious?”_

_“Apparently not, if I require your further elaboration.”_

You should have said “I understand, Your Grace”. Nonetheless, I have foreseen this. You are not one to easily concede. So here we go, here is my argumentation.

_“You now have a bevy of suitors at your disposal, and I've been afforded relief from mamas and daughters alike in order to conduct my affairs in peace whilst remaining in London. Thus, our arrangement has succeeded, Miss Bridgerton.”_

_“Stop calling me that.”_

Daphne, I cannot. If I ever dare to utter your name once more, I shall break.

_“These very circumstances prove…”_

_“What are you doing?”_

Please, I beg of you, shush. Do not disorient me. I have rehearsed this.

_“…prove that our ruse should hereby need to end.”_

I have laid it out for you. I believe you will find my argumentation simple, straightforward, and fair.

_“Have I done something wrong?”_

Daphne… The hurt in your voice is undoing me…

_“No.”_

_“Then tell me why.”_

I have told you why! I have given you a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Our arrangement was too successful for my own good, Daphne. I wish we had failed; I wish you had remained a hidden gem forever…

_“You have the attentions of a prince.”_

I should have not turned my gaze toward you. My composure is fading before the sorrow I have caused. This is not the man you deserve, Daphne. 

_“He is perfect for you.”_

The man has witnessed you snort straight to his face, he witnessed you giggle at him when he fell prey to that dreadful swooner, and he is _still_ interested. No soul who has ever walked this earth is worthy of you, but if there could be any one man who would come close to deserve your attentions, I would wager that it is this pointlessly ornamented giddy boy. Not because he is a prince, but despite of it. He _is_ a prince, and yet he is not blinded by the superficial glow of twinkling young ladies in search of the highest of all matches. He wants you, Daphne. _My_ Daphne, who snorts while laughing.

You should know that I would never let you go to another… to anyone… if I did not think they would make you happy. But I cannot keep you with me forever, Daphne. _He_ would give you everything your heart desires. _He_ would love you, care for you, adore you. _He_ would give you the children you crave, and worship them endlessly because they would all look like you…

_“This is about our conversation yesterday.”_

It _is_ about our conversation yesterday. For the more I approach you, the more I burn. And I cannot risk incinerating you along with me when I cannot be the one to quench the flames.

_“I apologize for that.”_

_“There is no need to apologize.”_

I _need_ to apologize. You did not deserve to be pulled into my most corrupt core when I had no intention of ever making you mine.

_“Your brother was correct. I am and always will be a rake. Before I corrupt you any further...”_

I am bad for you, Daphne… dragging you to the peripheries of decency and preying on your naïveté like the ferocious beast that I am, when all you have given me is comfort and peace? I took pleasure in chasing the innocence out of you, in witnessing your kind eyes getting tainted with desire, in waking up your body… and to what end?

_“Corrupt me? I assure you; I am quite capable of deciding the bounds of my own propriety.”_

Oh… I have offended you. I did not mean to hurt you, Daphne. I am sorry. 

_“I thought you and I were friends.”_

You should not want me as your friend, Daphne. I set up a game for us to play, then I changed the rules in the middle of it without even telling you, and finally I flipped the board upside down and resigned… This is not a _friend_.

_“We were never friends.”_

Let me go, Daphne. Leave me be. You do not want me.

_“I do not believe there could be a more ridiculous notion than that of us ever being friends. A young lady, barely out of her leading strings, you…”_

I want to stop talking. I assure you, Daphne, I want to stop. But I cannot.

The dam of my darkness has broken, and I cannot help flooding your heart with my poison. I see your face dimming with each word, but I am helpless; for I am the offspring of a monster.

_“You were a convenience… a diversion, a pretty one at that, but nothing more. Now that I've concluded my business in town, I shall be moving on. I suggest you do the same.”_

Daphne, oh Daphne, I am so sorry… Why could you not let me just speak the words I have practiced so many times? Why did you have to be so relentless? You have crushed down my most resilient walls and all you have found underneath is a broken boy… who undeservedly unleashed on you all the hurt he has suffered.

Words escape me when I am in such agony. Only words I know are words of hurt. I am only capable of inflicting pain and disappointment. This is not a man you deserve. How I wish I was able to love you. Instead, I teased you and seduced you and corrupted you, and in the end, hurt you. 

Why could you not quietly accept the end of our arrangement? It was an arrangement after all. I have not promised you anything. How I wish I could promise you everything… but I cannot. I will not. I cannot love you like you deserve to be loved. 

I am not worthy of you.

_“You will be very happy with your prince, Miss Bridgerton.”_

He is not worthy, either. But at least, he can promise you everything you desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She does not hear, even once, that it’s about the prince. She absolutely believes that it’s about her.
> 
> The next time he calls her Daphne, he breaks (in the maze).
> 
> I like the boy/the beast dichotomy for him. It’s cliché but it’s totally Simon. A boy who longs to be loved and the beast who lets his libido take over every time he has to deal with emotions.
> 
> This scene is sooo pivotal, it’s the root of all their miscommunication until the wedding night. In the previous chapters, their thoughts were always in synch, always symmetrical. In this one, I wrote them more independently, since their harmony is crumbling down. Ugh I love these idiots so so much. 
> 
> Also, an anachronistic “stare into the abyss” reference casually thrown in there, just because.
> 
> Next two chapters were very tricky to write as there are no dialogues, so I need to let them simmer for a while until they are ready to savour. Stay tuned for more hurt to come.


	7. The book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overhearing Lady Cowper’s remarks at the modiste, Daphne decides to overcome her heartbreak and pursue the prince.
> 
> As she makes her breathtaking entrance to the ballroom in her revenge dress, Simon is in attendance to ensure that the deal is done.
> 
> Companion chapter for Episode 3, 50" mark, at the Ingénue Ball.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

You do not want me.

Was I truly that naïve to believe that we shared a mutual understanding? Our promenades were always carefree… our conversations, entertaining… our dances, magical. I know you enjoyed my company… until you did not. Once you have charmed me, I was of no interest to you anymore.

I know you did not wish to marry me. But why did you have to break my heart?

Why did you have to betray our friendship? Have I truly become such a burden to you that you needed to brush me off your coattails?  _ A lady barely out of her leading strings _ … Was I so silly that I bothered you to the point of inflicting cruelty? Was my ignorance such an enticing challenge for you that you had to first  _ educate _ me, then abandon me to my newfound knowledge? Was I truly… a  _ convenience _ ?

You wanted me to charm the prince… Was this meant to be your cruel attempt at a consolation prize? What do I care about the prince? Did I ever mention, once, any intention about the prince? I barely even spoke to the man, why on earth would you ever think that  _ I _ shall have the attentions of the prince?

And yet, Lady Cowper seems to be in agreement with you. She believes that if I “went for him”, I shall  _ have him _ , because I “have the face”. Such a horrid bargain. A husband for a face… How dare you push me into a transaction when you knew all I ever wanted was love!

Very well, Your Grace. I shall resume my pursuit. I shall become, once again, _Miss Bridgerton_ , the season’s incomparable, to charm the prince and secure myself a husband. Well, that is what they want. That is what  _ you _ want.

Circlet of jewels on my hair, my hair on my shoulders, my feather fan in my hand, I will turn every gaze in this room in my direction as I make my entrance wearing my white and silver dress. You will not even be here to witness my triumph, even though the only gaze I crave is yours.

_ “Are you feeling all right, dearest?” _

_ “Exceptionally.” _

Do not worry, mama, I am feeling  _ exceptionally _ all right. I am not the naïve debutante from some weeks ago, the bright-eyed fool fascinated by the reveries of love and devotion. Tonight, I am a woman with a goal. I know what I want, and this time, I shall secure it. 

I have allowed you to confuse me, Your Grace. For a moment, I lost sight of my purpose. I thought the flutters in my stomach were a fair trade-off for a proposal. It was truly my fault for discarding your words and trusting your actions, when your actions were betraying your words. I should have known better.

Oh. You  _ are _ here. Why are you here?

My open wounds bleed at the sight of you. Why did you even come? You despise society, you despise balls,  _ your business _ is concluded. Why then? Are you merely here to enjoy my misery? What possible reason can you have to attend tonight? Are you so cruel to the point that you wished to witness me broken, you wanted to see me in despair? Did you believe your consolation prize would deem me unworthy of his attentions, just as you did, and you would enjoy my second fall from grace?

Well, you will not see me bleed tonight, Your Grace.

Even though my heart is pounding to escape my chest, tonight I shall enact the game of pretence that I have perfected before you came along. So, since you _are_ here, watch me perform, one by one, the chapters from _my_ _book_ you disdain. 

Watch my fan sweep across my bosom as I slowly walk down the stairs. Watch me catch his gaze and lure him towards me with my eyes. Watch me break contact ever so quickly, to catch your gaze, before I meet his once again. Watch me hold my head high as I welcome His Highness to my charm. Watch me mesmerize him with my proud stare.

Watch me shamelessly drop my fan, pretending to be a helpless little woman in need of his assistance. Watch me become this most insincere version of myself; after all, this is how the game is played.

Watch me make a  _ prince _ kneel before me, Simon. Watch me coyly smile at him. Watch me eloquently impersonate an ingénue right before you, you who long realized that an ingénue, I am not. Watch him walk me to the dance floor, watch me hold him, watch him hold me. Watch me stare passionately in his eyes as our breaths draw near.

Watch me dance with another, Simon, for you and I, we shall never dance ever again.

<<

_ “You have been rather reserved all evening, Your Grace.” _

_ “I have decided to leave England earlier than expected. Apologies, Lady Danbury, but I believe it is time for me to go.” _

_ “You're foolish.” _

Like there was ever a choice for me to make… I cannot have you. I do not want to witness another have you, either. So, I  _ must _ leave.

I  _ am _ leaving, but not before I seal the success of our arrangement.

Anticipating your presence resembles torture, now that I have lost the privilege of your company. Nevertheless, I had to come. I could not have abandoned you, not before ensuring that you are in the arms of the prince. I am holding  _ my _ end of the bargain. I have promised you to secure you a husband, and I will stay until you are on the dance floor with him… Torture, indeed, that I am willing to inflict upon myself eagerly, to witness you turning your momentary heartbreak into eternal bliss.

You have arrived; I  _ know _ you have. Everyone in this room is lifting their eyes up toward you. It must be  _ you _ . Who else can command such an admiration from every member of the ton, even the queen?

I dare not look at you.

I  _ must _ look at you.

Heavens, Daphne, you are breathtaking.

You carry yourself with such confidence tonight. Was it not only yesterday when I found you in the gardens with your right hook still hanging in the air? How insecure you were feeling at the thought of having no viable prospects... yet all I could think was how fascinating you were in your fighting stance, knocking him down with your punch, knocking me down with your wit. Ready to knock anybody down, who would dare to come between you and your future. And seconds after such a fright, how astutely you were strategizing to navigate the society’s reign on you.

You were dismissing me at every occasion because I did not fit into your strategy, and I was intrigued. I just  _ needed  _ to stay and watch the wheels in your head turn. I simply had to find an excuse to remain in your company, to observe your beautiful mind at work trying to concoct yourself a plan to ride the waves of  _ polite society _ despite your shackles. And the more I watched, the deeper I sank.

You never needed me, Daphne. It was always in you. I was merely by your side when you rediscovered your confidence. Tonight,  _ you _ finally know what I have known all along.

I know I must feel relieved that my cruelty did not damage you, and you walked away from me unscathed… but this broken boy in me weeps that you did not care for him as he wished you did… I am so undeserving of you that I wish you were suffering as I am suffering, all the while hoping that you would find your happiness in  _ him _ .

When you caught my gaze for a single moment, the world stopped. I thought you were smiling at me, that you would come to me as the confident woman that you are, and scold me for being such a cruel idiot… But I recognize that smile. You are not smiling  _ at me _ ; with the genuine smile you reserve only for me. You are smiling  _ through me; _ with the polite smile you don for anyone. I have become… anyone, in your eyes.

Once again, your gaze is locked on him. And he is already captivated. Only an idiot would not be.

Oh no… what are you doing? Dropping your fan,  _ Miss Bridgerton _ ? What chapter of the book is this? Why are you playing their game? You are above this. You do not need to flutter your eyelashes and drop your fan to charm the man. He is already yours to take. But you wanted to put on a whole show, did you not? You wanted to show every member of the ton that the prince would _kneel_ before you.

I cannot bear to witness this charade of yours. Pretence does not suit you, Miss Bridgerton. Shed this polite shell, you are far more precious underneath. He  _ will _ love you for who you truly are; kind, witty, and determined. He is already captivated by you, as he spins you on the dance floor and your eyes are fixated on him.

You  _ will _ be very happy with your prince, Miss Bridgerton. But I simply cannot suffer it any longer.

As I storm out of this ballroom to the benefit of Lady Whistledown, I know she will write what she will see: that I was ignored, that I was replaced, that I was furious. She will report my defeat and your triumph. What she will not see is that, as I glance back to make sure you are in  _ his _ arms, I am taking in the last sight of you, to carry with me wherever I go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no speech to bounce off from, so it’s just plain anger. Daphne is fuming inside. I wanted her last words to be "Drop dead, Simon" but it seemed *a bit* out of character.
> 
> Simon never focuses on her beauty, so I avoid the descriptives about her appearance. It’s always who she is that is captivating for him. And when he later says “most beautiful of women”, it’s not because she is beautiful on the surface, it’s because he sees through her.  
> Notice how he reverts to Miss Bridgerton once he sees Daphne is playing pretend.
> 
> And a little flashback to the night at Vauxhall, because all the hurt he’s feeling at the moment is his damn fault for getting intrigued by her. Idiot. If you don’t want to catch feelings, don’t spend time with an intriguing woman. 
> 
> Once again, very little symmetry. My fave here is "abandon".
> 
> Here's my hot take on this scene and why I wrote it like I wrote it:  
> https://www.reddit.com/r/BridgertonNetflix/comments/lsxorq/simons_overlooked_gentlemanly_move/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! I am humbled by your kindness.


End file.
